


Husbandry and Haberdashery

by sabinelagrande



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bird Puns, Farce, Hats, I apologize for nothing, M/M, People aren't wearing enough of them, Pranks, Silly, Tony Stark Is The Most Clever, Wikipedia: Getting people into trouble since 2001, only not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-11
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-02-04 06:19:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1768780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes when Tony learns something new, it benefits all mankind. This is definitely not one of those times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Husbandry and Haberdashery

**Author's Note:**

> The essence of Wikipedia: one minute you're on the gom jabbar entry, then you're learning more than you ever, ever wanted to know about breeding hawks, and then it turns into fic somehow. So this story makes way more sense if you read [this section of this article](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Imprinting_\(psychology\)#Sexual_imprinting).
> 
> Hopefully it does, anyway.

Bruce is just minding his own business when it starts. Bruce minds his own business a lot; Bruce specializes in minding his own business, in fact. It is a skill he has cultivated over many years, both out of necessity and because it's just nice. Soothing. Bruce likes soothing.

The doors to the lab spring open, and Tony comes bounding in, looking excited.

Tony is the main thing that keeps Bruce from minding his own business. Tony is endlessly entertaining, but Tony is not soothing.

"I need hats," Tony says, looking excited. "At least fifty hats."

"What kind of hats?" Bruce asks warily.

"I appreciate that you know me well enough that that's your first question," Tony replies. He puts his elbows on the lab table, leaning forward. "What kind of hat do you think is the sexiest?"

"Oh god," Bruce says, rubbing his forehead. There is no universe in which this ends well.

\--

At first, it seems pretty innocuous. They don't really do group meals as a regular event, but this thing has happened where somehow now everybody has their own chair in the dining room they've adopted/commandeered, just a place where everybody knows they're supposed to be. That's what Clint thought, anyway, but when he walks in with his breakfast, the second chair on the right has a hat sitting in front of it.

Clint frowns at it in confusion. "That your hat?" he asks Thor, who's demolishing a huge plate of eggs and bacon.

Thor looks up at him, then down at the hat. "It would not suit me," he says, going back to his breakfast.

"It was here when I got here," Steve says, before taking a drink of his milk. "That's your spot, anyway."

"Remove the hat and join us," Thor says, waving with his fork.

Clint looks the hat over again before pushing it away and setting down his cereal. He slides into his chair and picks up his spoon, and in an hour he's forgotten about the hat entirely.

The hat doesn't stay forgotten for long.

How could it, really, when it turns out to have been the advance guard of some kind of hat invasion. Suddenly everywhere Clint goes in the tower, there are hats. Hats in the lounge, hats on the balcony, hats on the range. Hats in the kitchen, hats in the conference room, hats in the elevator. So many hats, all of them different styles and colors and sizes, just all these hats, _everywhere_.

Clint knows that _someone_ is getting a prank pulled on them, but he can't decide who. He's ninety percent sure Tony is the culprit. Nat is the only other person who regularly tries to prank people, but hers are swift, precise, and usually end with someone covered in ink, for some reason. This is more of the "Tony amuses himself at someone else's expense over a long period" kind of prank. Clint thinks it isn't much of a prank at all, given the fact that sometimes Tony's knowledge is so obscure and his mind so weird that only Bruce- because their brains are too similar- and Pepper- because Tony tells her everything and can't help gush about how smart he is- understand what the fuck he's talking about. But then again, Tony pays Clint's bills and keeps him in arrows, so if this kind of thing keeps Tony happy, then whatever.

Of course, then Clint figures out the joke is on him; all he does is pick up one of the hats, looking it over- would he look good in a beret? It's a nice hat, seems like a shame for them all to be going unworn for a joke- and Tony breaks out into hysterical laughter.

This one is going to be hard to figure out. It would be a lot easier if Robin Hood was known for his Kangols.

\--

The hat situation has gotten out of hand. Bruce doesn't know that it ever really was in hand to start with, but it is _definitely_ out of hand now. He's in the lounge watching Tony and Clint watch TV, and Clint has somehow ended up in a little throne of hats, hats stacked up on either side of him.

Bruce really doesn't know if he should step in and stop this. He's pretty sure that if he tried, Tony would just do it harder and louder.

"Sir," Jarvis says politely, "Director Coulson has just stepped off the elevator."

"Do you and J have some kind of bargain worked out that I don't know about?" Tony asks, as Coulson enters the lounge. "Alternately, don't you ever knock?"

"I like Jarvis," Coulson says mildly. "He's polite and doesn't cause me paperwork." Coulson nods to Bruce. "Doctor Banner."

Clint waves a hand at him, still looking at the TV. "Hey, boss."

"You seem to have a hat infestation, Stark," Coulson says, ignoring Clint. "Have you considered calling an exterminator?" He picks a hat up off the top of the pile on the back of the couch, flipping it over and examining the label. "Fancy stuff to be just laying around."

"Please, help yourself to a hat," Tony says, and he's only barely keeping his excitement to himself, fidgeting like he wants to jump up and down. "Why not that one? You'd look great in a pork pie. Just your thing."

Coulson fingers the tag, checking the size. "Well, if the hat fits," he says, flipping it back over, ducking his head and putting on his newly acquired headwear. 

"Looks great," Tony says, his voice a little strained. He's practically purple with the effort of holding his laughter in, and Bruce really doesn't know how he's managed to not completely lose it. "You should keep it. Too big for me."

Coulson makes a considering noise. "What do you think, Barton?" he asks, turning to Clint.

"I dunno," Clint says, cocking his head to one side. "There's something about that hat." He stands up, walking over to Coulson. "I can't quite figure out what it is." He runs a finger around the brim of Coulson's hat, pushing it up a little in the front. "I think it's a good something."

And that's the limit of Tony's composure; he laughs so hard he actually falls to the floor, turning bright red. Bruce just shakes his head. It's taken a solid week, but Tony's joke has finally paid off, and Bruce isn't going to ruin his moment, as stupid as the whole thing is.

Bruce is too distracted to realize that the action on the other side of the room hasn't stopped; when he looks back over, Clint is all but rubbing himself all over Coulson, pressed up against his side with his face against Coulson's neck.

"This is not what I was expecting," Coulson says, but he certainly isn't making any attempt to move.

"Mmm, leave it on," Clint says, catching Coulson's hand as he goes to take the hat off. "I like it."

Tony has managed to get himself upright again, but now he's staring at Clint and Coulson. "Oh god, it's working too well," he says, looking wild-eyed at Bruce. "Shit, Bruce, what have I done?"

"I guess you shouldn't have started this if you didn't want little baby hawks," Bruce says, not sure what else to say.

Tony looks increasingly unsettled. "Do I get a spray bottle, or-"

"I honestly have no idea what to tell you," Bruce says.

"Well, I better go," Tony says, scrambling to his feet. "People to see, hats to clean up, anywhere to be but watching Hawkeye feel up Coulson, you know how it is."

Tony is long gone by the time Clint cracks up. "That was _so_ worth it."

"How long have you known?" Bruce asks.

"I only figured it out yesterday," Clint tells him. "You know, I'm like ninety percent sure it's not even true. I know people get up to weird stuff, but I feel like animal husbandry should never involve a bird having sex with a hat."

"Seems inefficient, if nothing else," Coulson says.

"Right?" Clint replies.

"Tony found pictures," Bruce says, shaking his head. "Trust me, they're in 'can't unsee' territory." Clint still hasn't let Coulson go; in fact, he seems to have gotten closer, and it looks like one of his hands has snuck under Coulson's suit jacket and may be trying to make its way into his pants. "You can stop now, Tony's not coming back."

"We could," Clint says. "We're not gonna."

"Fair enough," Bruce says, standing up. "You guys have fun."

"We will," Clint assures him.

"Not too much fun," Coulson says, and Bruce is fairly sure it's intended for Clint.

"Jarvis, if you could set this floor on do not disturb?" Bruce says, in the direction of the ceiling.

"Yes, doctor," Jarvis says.

"We can do that?" Clint asks.

"I can do that," Bruce tells him. "Now you can have all the fun you want."

"Thank you," Coulson says.

"Don't mention it," Bruce says, turning and walking towards the elevator. "Mostly because I don't need to know."

Clint is laughing when the elevator door shuts, the hats are gone by morning, and that is the last that Bruce ever hears about it.

Thank god.


End file.
